Carnival 12/7/11

• The last warm morning for a while.  I was up early and ready for beachwalking.  When I hit the ocean deck, I stopped and gawked.  The sky was a carnival.  The barely-there cloud streaks snatched pink or blue or orange from the tropical rainbow and glowed.  I did 360s on the sand to take it all in.
• Mother Ocean rolled in foamy towards high tide and lapped over my feet.  She felt the same temp as the air, only wetter.
• The piers were swallowed up by humidity again, making the beach cozy.
• Saw a young man squating on his duffel bag and sipping a Miller High Life 40.  He said, "It's been a helluva week on vacation here" and asked for a cigarette.  I'm not sure what he meant, but I gave him a smoke and wished him a good day.
• 7:07 and I stopped to watch Sunbella blaze her way through the clouds.  My heart pounded and my breath paused.  Her rising was quiet and slow and ordinary, but glorious at the same time.  I told a passing beachwalker we should be hearing the "Hallelujah Chorus" while watching this sunrise.  He laughed and agreed.
• My feet were ice blocks plodding on the ocean deck when I returned, but I feel blessed to be able to beachwalk the sunrise in 66 degrees with 88% humidity.  I will miss this warm weather!